


Tales of Tamriel

by Sterling_Starlight



Category: Elder Scrolls Online
Genre: But that's a problem with all TES games with DLC, Character groups tagged as they appear, Gen, Not everything is about the main story, There will be dates but it won't be in perfect chronological order, one shot anthology, sometimes a family is a cave full of remorseless murderers with varying degrees of sass
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:00:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29514999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sterling_Starlight/pseuds/Sterling_Starlight
Summary: A non-chronological series of moments in before, after, and in between The Soulless One's quest to save Tamriel from Molag Bal. Included in this tome are records of other individuals, each whom made their mark in the Second Era in their own ways





	Tales of Tamriel

For very obvious reasons, the day-to-day lives of the assassins in The Dark Brotherhood were never discussed in detail. If there had been any memoirs penned about what everyone did in between contracts, it had been either removed from print entirely or heavily edited. People feared the Dark Brotherhood because they were everywhere at once. They struck from the shadows and haunted dark street corners like vengeful wraiths. They were the agents of Sithis, and through them His will was done. If Tamriel found out that, hidden away in the sanctuary, they were just like any other family, it would blemish their immaculate reputation. 

“That does it!” Mirabelle Motierre’s voice, usually as smooth and seductive as fine wine and chocolate, echoed across the Sanctuary's living area. “Out of my kitchen. Out, out, out!” Despite easily being a full head and shoulders shorter than Kor, the elegant Breton woman shooed the Nord away as easily as one would wave away a fly.

“But you’re not adding nearly enough spices!” Kor protested, “What kind of venison stew doesn’t have at least a cupful of onions, garlic, and mead?”

“Any  _ decent _ one,” Mirabelle said sternly, placing her hands on her hips. “Do you know how long it took me to get a good cut of venison? I’m not letting you ruin it with your tasteless Nordic cooking style.”

“I’m a great cook,” Kor said defensively. “Right Hilde?”

The young Nord woman nearly jumped out of skin when she was addressed, having previously been engrossed in the story she was writing. Before she could open her mouth to retort, Mirabelle cut her off. 

“Oh, please. Hildegarde doesn’t count. You could set a plate of barely cooked meat in front of her, and she’d be perfectly happy.” Mirabelle said dismissively. Pink spreading across her face, Hildegarde partially hid behind the veil of her hair and muttered,

“She is not wrong.” 

Mirabelle crossed her arms over her chest, triumphant, and allowed Kor to flounder for a few seconds more.  Cimbar , mercifully, came to his rescue. 

“Just leave it, Brother. You’re not going to win this one.” He said, placing a sympathetic hand on the Nord’s shoulder. Mirabelle smiled flirtatiously and flipped her hair over her shoulder, giving Cimbar a wink that left him temporarily speechless. 

(“And just like that, he crumbles like a house of cards,” Tanek said to Elam. The two of them were playing cards far enough away from the Kitchen Conundrum, as to avoid Mirabelle overhearing them.

“He's wrapped around her little finger,” Elam drawled. He re-shuffled the cards in his hand, as if that would magically change it for the better. “And people ask me why I’m not interested in romance.”)

Eilonn stumbled into the living area at that time, dusty and tried with a few cherry blossom petals still stuck in her hair. Elam looked at her out of the corner of his eye, took in her disheveled appearance, and set his cards face-down on the table. “I’m fairly certain the contract was to stab a person, not a  _ tree _ , Initiate.”

“They’ve doubled the guard in Skywatch,”  Eilonn said curtly. With a glare, she added “Maybe if  _ some people  _ didn’t give me Auridon contracts every other day, they wouldn’t be on such high alert.”

Elam shrugged, completely nonplussed. “You’ve needed to work on your stealth. Clearly, you’re learning, since you seemed to have used a tree for cover. Now, did you want to be dealt in, or are you going to stand around bellyaching all night?”

“Not so fast. I need  Eilonn to help me make dinner.” Mirabelle interjected. Without another word, she marched across the room and linked elbows with the High Elf. “She’s one of the only people here who knows the difference between mincing and mutilating.” Without waiting for a response, she pulled  Eilonn into the kitchen and shoved a carrot and a vegetable peeler into her hands. “Be a dear, would you?”

Eilonn quirked her brow at Mirabelle, but the Breton stood on her tip-toes to kiss her cheek, trilling a “thank you” before turning to a slab of raw, bloody venison. With a sigh of resignation,  Eilonn began peeling the carrot in smooth, well-practiced strokes.

(She ignored Green-Venom-Tongue's mumbling as he added something to his journal. Specifically, she tried to ignore him wondering if Mirabelle ability to make others do whatever she asked was a natural skill, an enchantment, or if everyone around her was sexually repressed)


End file.
